Double Score

She shook her head. “Really. It’s not that big a deal.”

“I insist.” I pressed my fingers to her wrist and heard a sigh escape those damn sinful lips of hers.

Her eyes flashed to mine. “All right. But only one. That’s all.”

“That’s all I’m offering.” I grinned. “Wait here.” I led her to the table where I had been sitting with Wes only a few seconds ago. “What’s your poison of choice?”

“Vodka tonic.”

“Got it.” I maneuvered toward the bar and threw a fifty in front of the bartender.

He poured a bourbon for me and a vodka tonic with a lime wedge for the girl. I walked back to the table. She shifted in her seat, and her loose shirt slid from her collarbone down her arm. Seeing a woman’s shoulder had never made my mouth water like that before.

She pinched the collar and repositioned it. “Thank you.”

I noticed how long and delicate her fingers were when she picked up the glass.

“It’s the least I could do. Are you sure you aren’t hurt?”

I’d knocked bigger men than me to their asses at the line of scrimmage. It couldn’t have felt good when I rammed into her.

“I don’t think I’ll have any bruises.” She brought the edge of the glass to her mouth.

I didn’t know what in the hell I was doing. I was getting ready to take my third shot and I was sitting with the most gorgeous girl in the place. I couldn’t blame Wes for any of it. He may have planted an idea in my head, but I was doing this all on my own.

I had already started a countdown of how long I had until the team meeting, or if I pushed it back farther—kickoff.

After all, the season didn’t start until tomorrow.

4

Natalia

This was unbelievable. I waited at the table while Mr. Sex on a Stick bought a vodka drink for me. What was I doing? I could handle flirting. I was used to it. As a Warrior Goddess, I had more numbers crammed in my hand as I walked through the tunnel than a stripper had one-dollar bills. So why was I suddenly letting this guy with piercing gray eyes trap me with a typical bar pick up line?

He had no idea I was standing there when he almost knocked me to the floor. I was impressed how quickly he reached for me. With one arm, he had me on my toes. I was more enamored with his wall of a chest. Holy hell.

I wasn’t that kind of girl. I wasn’t that kind of Goddess. I waved at Heather. She was talking to some guy with a tattoo crawling down both arms. She smiled and her eyes went right back to him. At least someone knew I had arrived, and I couldn’t be blamed if we lost tomorrow night. I had officially fulfilled my Goddess obligation for the season. I had been on the squad for four months, and I still didn’t feel like it was home yet. I didn’t know that it ever would.

God, I was fed up with all of it. The traditions. The guilt. The embarrassment.

“How’s the drink?” he asked.

“Good.” I took another sip. Vodka had always been my go-to.

If Madame Collette knew I was drinking before a performance, she would have had me doing a hundred pliés to make up for it. My thighs wouldn’t let me do it again. The burn would be seared into my memory. Ballerinas didn’t drink. And they certainly didn’t hook up with random hot guys.

But she wasn’t here, and I wasn’t part of the troupe. No, I was on the dance squad. And this was what the Goddess dancers did.

“Are those your friends over there?” He motioned to the girls, who were probably on their third or fourth drink.

I nodded. “Sort of.” I used the little swizzle stick to push the lime under the ice.

“Would you rather join them?” he asked.

His question caught me off guard. I froze for a second. I could be over there talking about photo shoots and the calendar that was coming out before Christmas. I could talk about how much I loved to shake my ass in front of the fans. How much I loved being on the Warriors’ payroll. How I lived and breathed two things: football and cheering.

But none of that was me. I didn’t want to talk about any of those things, or be reminded that I was a part of the squad.